


History

by thequidditchpitch_archivist



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Action/Adventure, Book 7: Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, Friendship, Hogwarts Era, Romance, Second War with Voldemort, The Quidditch Pitch: From Diagon Alley to Hogwarts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-06-15
Updated: 2009-09-03
Packaged: 2018-10-26 18:38:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 6,987
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10792425
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thequidditchpitch_archivist/pseuds/thequidditchpitch_archivist
Summary: Lee's story from 1995 (during OotP) to 1998 (during DH), told in fourteen short ficlets. It's about wanting, laughing, loving, fighting and losing. Above all, it's about friendship.





	1. Rather Anticlimactic

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Annie, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [The Quidditch Pitch](http://fanlore.org/wiki/The_Quidditch_Pitch), which went offline in 2015 when the hosting expired, at a time I was not able to renew it. I contacted Open Doors, hoping to preserve the archive using an old backup, and began importing these works as an Open Doors-approved project in April 2017. Open Doors e-mailed all authors about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact us using the e-mail address on [The Quidditch Pitch collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/thequidditchpitch/profile).
> 
>  **Author's notes:** Written for [rarepair_shorts](http://community.livejournal.com/rarepair_shorts/).

Lee Jordan fell in love with George Weasley on a Friday in his seventh year at Hogwarts. The whole thing was rather anticlimactic and not in the least spectacular, but made his life annoyingly complicated. 

 

The twins had worked on improving the Puking Pastilles the night before, George being the lucky one to test them, retching for hours while Fred had tried to brew an antidote that worked. Very late, the three of them had finally gone to sleep, Fred staying in George's bed, watching protectively over his brother who was too weak to protest.

 

It was still early, a few hours later, when Fred forced Lee to get up, dress at maximum speed and shooed him out of the dormitory. He said George needed more sleep. Lee answered with a rude gesture. He needed sleep as well.

 

When George came stomping into the Great Hall a few hours later – Fred and Lee were about to have lunch - he was still pale, his freckles still too dark and his hair sticking out in every direction. There was no doubt that he'd just come out of bed. 

 

"Bloody tossers," George cursed, glared at them and sat down next to Fred, shoving him so that he bumped into Lee. "Why didn't you wake me up?" 

 

"Aww, look at him. Isn't he adorable when he's all sleepy and grumpy?" Fred answered and ruffled George's hair.

 

"Fuck off." George picked up a slice of toast, sniffed at it, put it back, groaned and pressed his hand against his stomach.

 

Lee had indeed looked at him. He agreed. George was adorable in a very sincere, non-sarcastic way. And just like that, with nothing else happening, he knew he was doomed.

 

He started to notice the little things. The way George ate his porridge was mesmerizing and the way he licked ice-cream off his spoon was probably illegal in a country or twelve. George made even the act of putting on a shirt most special. One time, Lee caught himself sighing because he watched George making notes during Transfiguration and the muscles in his forearm moved _just so_. Lee was disgusted with himself, but that didn't help in the least.

 

Despite that Lee was a Gryffindor, a boy and stuck in a battle with his hormones, he managed not to give himself away. He made sure not to be in the shower at the same time as George, as that inevitably led to dire consequences. When George flounced around in the dorm half naked, Lee either left the room or averted his eyes. He was careful not to stare too much at George, and if he did, he stared just as long at Fred or any other random male. The rumour that he had a crush on Angelina, Lee had spread himself. He'd been the twins' best friend long enough to know that a good distraction covers almost anything. In any case, it worked. They didn't have a clue. He was being subtle.

 

"Oi, Jordan!" Fred's voice stopped Lee's pensive moment on the common room couch. "Quit staring at George's arse and grab your broom, we're going flying." Right. Maybe he hadn't been _that_ subtle.

 

"Well, look at it," he answered, glad that he didn't blush easily. "Did you know it's freckled?"

 

"I've heard about it." Fred sighed and shook his head. "Don't tell the girls about his haemorrhoids, though. He's a bit embarrassed."

 

The banter went on, back and forth, until George smacked both of them upside the head.

 

It had been a near slip, but Lee had saved it. 

 

In the following weeks he got better, pretending that everything was normal and that nothing had changed. He tried to convince himself that he didn't lust after George, didn't want to touch him, didn't want to kiss him, didn't want to just hold him and tell him that he was gorgeous. 

 

Sometimes it almost worked. 

 

It didn't work, though, when Lee woke up sticky and sweaty and the same person he had just dreamt about was standing there, grinning. It didn't work when he watched George brewing potions in their dorm with a look of concentration on his face. It didn't work when his thoughts kept wandering, imagining things one surely didn't do with his best mate. And it certainly didn't help when George took Lee's hand after he'd returned from detention and looked at the words etched into the skin with blazing eyes, saying, "She'll pay for that."

 

Maybe Alicia was right, though. They were doing homework together, but Lee only thought of red hair and freckles, chewing on the end of his quill. "It could be worse," she said softly. "You could have a crush on Fred."


	2. About Friendship

Things were changing and they were changing at an alarming speed.

Umbridge invented new rules every day. The Gryffindor Quidditch team had lost two beaters and a seeker. The inquisitorial squad did everything to make their life as uncomfortable as possible.

NEWTs were almost there and Lee should study. But he didn't. Not when there was another change, a change he didn't understand but was worse than anything else.

Fred and George were around less frequently. It was strange, considering that they didn't play Quidditch anymore and their brooms had been confiscated. Sometimes they stopped talking when Lee joined them in the dorm or in the common room. They skipped classes, they brewed something in their makeshift beneath-the-bed potion lab. A new product, they said, but Lee didn't believe it. He was simultaneously pissed off and hurt, because he'd thought that they had no secrets, that they were best friends.

He'd been out, looking for the twins, not having seen them since lunch. Now it was long after dinner, and Lee went back to Gryffindor tower, unseen by the Slytherin prefects who patrolled the corridors.

The dorm wasn't as empty as he'd expected it to be, and he closed the door, shaking his head because again the conversation had stopped as soon as he'd entered.

"What's going on?" he asked without preamble, tired and annoyed, his back against the door.

"What do you mean?" Fred would have been a perfect picture of innocence, if Lee hadn't known him better.

Lee shook his head again and felt a spark of anger. "You're avoiding me, you're not talking to me, you're bloody lying to me."

"We never lied to you." The answer came quickly and there was irritation in George's voice. Technically he was right, they hadn't lied to Lee outright, but they sure as hell had shut him off.

Lee didn't care about technicalities at the moment. "So tell me what this is about and stop acting like I don't exist."

The twins looked at each other and did that silent communication thing they had perfected and that drove Lee mad at times. When George looked down at the bed instead of up at Lee, he knew what decision had been made.

"Can't," Fred said simply.

Lee snorted, but there was no trace of laughter in the sound. "You can't my arse."

"Come on, Lee, you know we still love you." Fred was teasing and Lee was getting more irritated by the second. "It will be a surprise, a big one."

"With fireworks, and explosions," George continued.

"A grand finale," Fred concluded.

They wanted Lee to stop asking and go with it. Lee knew that look, had seen it often enough, but usually it wasn't meant for him. What they were planning had to be big, and that made the fact that they had chosen to do it without him even worse.

Hang on.

Something clicked and a few things fell into place in Lee's mind.

"You're about to leave." It wasn't a question, it was a statement, an accusation. George looked down again but didn't answer. The way he ran his hand through his hair said enough, though. Fred had a fake smile still plastered on his face.

"When?" Lee didn't want to hear any excuses, didn't want to hear the reason why they hadn't asked him to come with them. George only shook his head, almost imperceptible.

"How?" He banged his fist against the door in frustration as they still didn't talk.

None of them said anything and the moments stretched and stretched until the silence was unbearable. That had never happened before.

Lee left the dormitory without another word.

Two days later they were gone. They were legends now and had left behind their sidekick, two nifflers and a note - You'll need NEWTs for the WWN. We checked.

If Lee cried that night it didn't count because no one could see him.  



	3. About Real Friendship

"I would like to talk to your boss, please," Lee said politely to the blonde girl wearing robes in a shade of magenta only a true genius or a very crazy person could come up with.

"I'm sorry, sir, Mr. and Mr. Weasley are busy at the moment. How can I help you?"

Lee snorted. "Then please tell Mr. and Mr. Weasley that I want to talk to them."

"I'm sorry, but they are in the product development room and are not to be disturbed." The girl looked sternly. It wasn't very convincing; compared to Lee she was tiny.

Lee pointed to a red curtain with a sign above that said 'Come in if you're brave enough'. "That's the product development room, yeah?"

"You can't," the girl said indignantly.

"I can," Lee assured her and walked toward the curtain, glad that a customer had just entered the shop and distracted the blonde girl.

He pulled back the curtain, but instead of announcing his presence, Lee leaned against the door frame and watched his friends for a moment. Fred was busy waving his wand over what looked like an ordinary t-shirt in complicated patterns, muttering charm after charm. George was stirring a potion in a huge cauldron, counting and adding ingredients in seemingly random intervals. Both of them were so immersed in what they were doing, that they probably wouldn't have noticed a pink, polka-dotted elephant dancing salsa in the middle of the room. Lee had missed them.

They hadn't written. Lee knew that they would have been able to smuggle something past Umbridge's security, but they hadn't. Lee hadn't either, so it was probably fair, he guessed. Now it was just a day after he'd left Hogwarts for the very last time. He hadn't planned on coming right away, but hadn't been able to stay away either. The shop was better, big, louder, George-and-Fred-er, than he'd ever thought it could be. Lee still hated that they'd just left, still resented them for it, but the crease in his forehead softened as he watched them. It was where they belonged, even Lee could see that.

"Mr. and Mr. Weasley, a customer just complained about the fake wands being fake," Lee eventually said in a fair imitation of the girl's high pitched voice.

Fred and George both whirled around simultaneously, eyes widening when they spotted Lee.

Fred was the one who recovered first and answered. "Good Lord, Verity, we told you not to eat the Ugly-Uppers, they aren't properly tested yet."

"But look at the result, Fred, it's stunning."

Lee didn't say anything, just stood there, crossed his arms in front of his chest and raised his eyebrows.

Fred and George looked at each other and then looked back at Lee. "Sorry," they both said at the same time and managed to look like kicked puppies.

"We owe you a drink, mate. Or twelve."

"Give us a hand, yeah, and we can go in half an hour," George said. He was asking for more than just a hand, though, it was evident in the tone of his voice.

Lee stepped closer, looked into the cauldron. "What is it?" It didn't matter, though, so he nodded and added, "how can I help?"

He heard Fred behind him exhale audibly and George looked at him and grinned.

George muttered something that sounded suspiciously like 'what the hell', stopped stirring and hugged him hard for about two point four seconds. "Fred's paying tonight. He bet that you'd punch us."

"Who says I won't?" asked Lee.


	4. Pink or Blue?

  
Author's notes: A pebble can reveal more about you than you might think.  


* * *

Lee got the job at the WWN in autumn. He'd worked as an unpaid intern for two months during the summer, but now he had a real contract, earned real galleons, and was taught everything from using his voice properly to the magic necessary for running a radio station. It was bloody brilliant.  
  
This day had been long. He'd had his first three minutes of airtime. The weatherman had needed to go home to his pregnant wife and Lee had stepped in. He was still grinning stupidly when he entered the twins' shop.  
  
"Heard you, mate." Fred emerged from the back room when the door bell announced Lee's presence. Lee had never figured out why it roared like a lion when Fred or George opened the door, but made chicken noises whenever he was the one who stepped through. "Was some wicked rain, you talked about. Think they'll give you a bit of fog next time or maybe even sunshine?" The words were teasing, but Fred was beaming and Lee knew that it was a genuine smile.  
  
"Git," Lee answered, grinning. He heard noises from the backroom and raised an eyebrow. "What are you up to? Tinkering again? Do I have to worry, is something going to blow up?"  
  
"Possibly. But that's our business, in case you forgot. Follow me, Jordan, a new radio star isn't the only thing we're going to celebrate tonight."  
  
They went through the door, and Lee nodded at George who was waving his wand over what looked like blue and pink pebbles. The air in the room was smokey and the smell reminded Lee of Snape's dungeon. The shelves were full of potion ingredients, plants in small bags, insects in jars, substances in different colours. Everything was neatly arranged and sorted by type. On the far end of the wall there was a locked cabinet. Lee had asked once what was in there, not surprised when George had told him that the stuff they locked up was either potentially fatal, highly valuable, or both.  
  
"What are those?" Lee asked, pointing at the pebbles, not at all sure if he wanted to know.  
  
George took a blue and a pink pebble and held them up. "Adult daydream charms. Worked on them for months."  
  
Lee looked at them, but other than the unnatural colour, there was no sign of them being anything other than small stones. "How do they work? And why different colours?"  
  
"These," George rolled the pink one between thumb and index finger, "are for witches. The charm activates a setting and provides a willing wizard. So far we only have tropical island, though."  
  
"The rather ingenious part is, that the looks of the wizard are determined by the witches desires," Fred added, bouncing on the balls of his feet and waggling his eyebrows at the last word.  
  
"Exactly," continued George. "Whatever happens is completely up to the witch. The daydream wizard will do whatever her unconscious mind wants him to do."  
  
"And we all know what depraved things witches can come up with. Just remember that one time when we sneaked into the library late at night and Mdme Pince and..."  
  
"Stop it, Fred," Lee half groaned, half begged. "We never sneaked into the library and I don't want to know what we would have seen if we'd done it."  
  
George pursed his lips. "Actually..." Lee was grateful that he didn't finish the sentence.  
  
"Anyway," George continued. "The blue ones are mostly the same. Instead of a wizard, there's a witch, though."  
  
Lee whistled appreciatively. "Brilliant. Are they already tested?"  
  
"The charms are tested, but not the finished product. George just added colours and safe words."   
  
"Safe words?" Lee didn't know if he liked that they needed safe words.  
  
"Yeah." George grinned. "There's a safe word in case you want the daydream to end before the charm is finished. For example if someone enters your room while you're..." He waved his hand at the general direction of his groin.  
  
"... 'busy' is the scientific term," Fred provided helpfully. "If you want to end the charm, you just say 'Filch' and the daydream is over."  
  
Lee snorted and made a face. "That would certainly put a damper on things."  
  
"Here, take one home, lock your door, hold it in your hand, tap it with your wand and tell us tomorrow how it went." George held out his hand, both pebbles lying innocently on his open palm. "Don't forget to clean up afterwards and wash your hands," he added as an afterthought.  
  
Lee looked from George to Fred to the pebbles, hesitated for a moment, made a decision, smirked, shrugged, and took the pink one.  
  
George sighed and rolled his eyes. "Pay attention, man. These are for witches."  
  
"I know," answered Lee.  
  
"It means that the one in the dream will be a bloke, with blokey bits," Fred said slowly and patiently as if talking to a small child - or a Slytherin.  
  
"I _know_ ," Lee said. "Pay attention."  
  
It only took a moment. He saw when realisation dawned, and George's mouth fell open at the same time as Fred's eyes went wide.  
  
"Er..."  
  
"Um..."  
  
"Does that mean the only thing one has to do to make you two shut up is being bent? Wicked."  
  
"Don't hold your breath, Jordan," Fred said after shaking his head, "it only works once." A small smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. "But think of all the jokes about your sexual orientation we're going to come up with."  
  


Lee groaned.  
  
George was still staring.


	5. Thinking

  
Author's notes: Fred, George and Lee are starting a little project.  


* * *

Winter and early spring were uneventful. Lee worked, had fun with the twins and dated halfheartedly. He broke it off when the bloke in question became too clingy. In March, Ron was nearly killed. In June, they attended the funeral of Dumbledore. When summer came, people were scared. Many had believed that Dumbledore would be the one to lead the fight, had relied on him to know what must be done. Lee wasn't scared, but he was concerned, especially because he'd read and learned so much about media being used as an instrument to influence people. And now he saw the signs every day at work, heard his father tell him stories from the Ministry. But there were hardly any alternatives in the wizarding world. They had the WWN, the Daily Prophet, the Quibbler and basically, that was it. Only one of those was independent - it was sad, really. Lee started to think.

***

  
  
And then, one day, Fred Apparated directly into Lee's bedroom.  
  
"s'up?" Lee asked sleepily. He was still lying in bed, had been sound asleep a minute earlier. He opened his eyes tentatively. Fred looked tired, his hair rumpled. Lee didn't think his friend had slept at all. The wooden clock on his wall, a present from Lee's grandfather, told him it was only six o'clock.  
  
"Couldn't Floo or owl, it's not safe," Fred explained and his face said that he was dead serious.  
  
Something must have happened. Lee shook his head, forced himself to get up. The only thing he wore were black boxers with golden snitches on them, and the fact that Fred didn't tease him, worried Lee more than anything else.  
  
"George was hurt."   
  
Lee had just been buttoning his jeans and looked up slowly. All of a sudden he felt cold. "What happened? How is he?" Lee's voice sounded strange, even to himself. "Fred?"  
  
"He's alright, I think. Sleeping now." Fred was facing the wall, both hands on either side of his head, balled into fists. "Mum didn't want us to go home, none of them did, but George wanted to. I told them it would look suspicious if none of us was home. They let us go, eventually. George did a damn good job of pretending it didn't hurt. Can you...?" Fred was talking rapidly and had turned around. He ran his hand through his hair. "I was awake the whole night, but I'm getting tired. Should go down to the shop, eventually, show my face. Don't want to leave him alone, though. Wouldn't stay alone, anyway. Bit of a pain in the arse. Could you?"  
  
Lee didn't know what exactly Fred was asking. It didn't matter, though, he'd find out soon enough. "'Course I can." Lee had pulled on a t-shirt and was looking for his wand and socks. "How was he hurt, what happened?" Lee asked again.  
  
"I'll tell you later, yeah? Bit of a long story. Just...let's go."   
  
Fred told him everything after they had arrived and asked Lee to keep an eye on George. Lee made coffee for himself and told Fred to go to bed already. It was strange, sitting down next to George's bed and reading a magazine. Or _pretending_ to read a magazine. Lee couldn't take his eyes off George and ever so often he touched him, brushed his hair back (gently, his head was probably hurting), touched his forehead (in case he got a fever), held his hand (no, he couldn't justify that, but did it anyway). George woke up around noon. Until then, Lee'd had a lot of time to think.

***

  
  
Then there was the wedding, a few days later. Lee ate Mrs. Weasley's food, danced with a few girls, drank more spiked punch than was reasonable and snogged one of George's distant relatives. The bloke was 10 years older but looked a bit like George - from behind, when one squinted. It was fun until the Death Eaters crashed the party.  
  
Lee never returned to the WWN. The evening news after the wedding made it painfully clear who was running the radio station now. There was no place for him there, the radio was dead, so was the Daily Prophet. And now Lee had even more time to think and plan.

***

  
  
Three weeks after the wedding Lee had figured out exactly what he would need, had started to get in contact with people who were willing to discreetly sell him some equipment and had a plan what exactly he wanted to do. He wouldn't be able to do it alone, though. It was just too big for only one person. Lee needed help, and he knew where to find it. It didn't feel right, dragging his best friends even deeper into this war. But knowing them, they'd never forgive him for asking someone else.  
  
"Listen," he told them after some half-arsed attempts at small talk. The twins' sofa was comfortable, but Lee was squirming - inside and outside. "I need your help." Lee ran his hands through his braids and studied the floor intently. There was a bright green stain and he'd always wondered where it had come from.  
  
"So you're finally letting us in on your evil plan?" There was amusement in George's voice. "What do you need?"  
  
Fred hadn't said a word so far, which was entirely against his nature. He just stood up and walked out of the room, only to return a minute later with three glasses and a bottle of Ogden's.   
  
"What?" Fred asked defensively when he saw that George and Lee were both looking at him. "Either something bad has happened and we're getting pissed or we're starting something tonight and need a celebration. I'd vote for the latter but I wouldn't bet my balls on it."  
  
"Why would anyone want your balls?" Lee asked out of habit.   
  
"Excellent question," George replied. "Let's save that discussion for later. So what's going on?"  
  
Lee told them everything about the little project he'd started to call 'Potterwatch' in his head. He told them that without any neutral media, people would lose hope. They needed to get information out there, because from now on, with the Ministry in Death Eater hands, it would only get worse. Lee told them about his plan, and that the three of them could make it work.   
  
When he was finished, Lee saw the wheels turning in his friends' heads.   
  
"A guerrilla radio station. Safe houses, passwords, secret names, information sources." George seemed to like the idea.   
  
"We need some more information about wards and coding. One of the main problems will be that they mustn't be able to locate us." With a quick spell Fred summoned parchment and quill.   
  
For more than an hour they wrote down what they'd need, ideas, whatever they could think of. They were a good team, Lee thought, not for the first time. Finally they were done, at least for this evening. George and Lee were sitting on the sofa, Fred on the floor with his head on an armchair and his legs under the table.  
  
They were silent for a while, each of them lost in his own thoughts.  
  
"Brilliant," George finally said. There was a long pause and they all took another drink. "And I'm kind of relieved that Fred is keeping his balls."   
  
It was the first time in weeks that the tension left Lee completely, and he was just someone who laughed at a friends' joke.

  



	6. Fighting

  
Author's notes: George and Lee are fighting.  


* * *

"No!"   
  
"Why the fuck not?"   
  
"I can't believe I'm having this conversation again. That's what, George, the fourth time?"   
  
"Then stop being an arse, Jordan."  
  
" _I_ am the arse here?"   
  
It was ridiculous. They'd talked about this time and time again. Fred had agreed long ago, but George just didn't want to. Lee took a pull from his beer and put the bottle back on the small table. Beer was a rare treat in his little hut. He'd been here for a week now. It was the middle of October and they were ready to start Potterwatch. The twins had located this place for Lee to hide and broadcast. He couldn't stay at home once his voice was on the air, the risk that someone would recognise it was too high.   
  
"You need me." George was petulant, pigheaded, and Lee's patience was wearing thin.  
  
"Of course I need you. I need you to help me set up the equipment. It would take ages to do it alone. I need you to reinforce and monitor the wards, because I can't do it while talking. I do _not_ need you to be a part of the show. No problem, I'll manage just fine without you."  
  
"Don't be such a stubborn git."  
  
Lee laughed, but it wasn't a happy sound. "Oh wow, that's rich, coming from you. You must be fucking joking."   
  
"I'm not fucking joking." George's voice was getting louder.  
  
"No. It's too dangerous. People know you, people know your voice."   
  
"But that's why Fred's in the shop. Whenever you're broadcasting, one of us is working, smiling at any Death Eater who's outside in the Alley."  
  
Lee threw up his hands; it was hopeless. "They are Death Eaters, but not all of them are dimwitted idiots. They know there are two of you. Flint, Montague, Malfoy, Pucey, Higgs, they'd recognise your voice. At least a couple of them have a mask and a mark by now."  
  
"But they'll recognise your voice, too."  
  
"Oh really? So all of this being in hiding business actually makes sense? That's brilliant."  
  
"You don't pull off sarcasm very well, Jordan."  
  
"Yeah? And you fail at pretending you don't understand this."  
  
George touched his throat. "We can use a charm to change my voice."  
  
Lee groaned. They had spent days researching spells, but none of them was truly irreversible. "No more risks, this is dangerous enough. I told you, as long as they know where to find you, you won't talk."  
  
"This is my project as much as it's yours. You couldn't have done it alone, you can't stop me from talking."  
  
"Watch me."   
  
"So what are you gonna do?" George came closer, his arms were outstretched. He smirked. "You gonna punch me?"  
  
"If that's what it takes." Lee shrugged. "Don't think I would mind wiping that look off your face." Lee's hands were balled into fists and he'd taken a step forward, too.   
  
"Come on, Jordan. You're as violent as a newborn kitten."  
  
On any other day that would have been true. But now Lee was angry. He was angry, worried, terrified, intimidated by what they had started, wasn't sure if he was up to the task. And George was making this even harder. It wasn't that Lee didn't want him on the show. Of course, he did. It would be insane, though, and irresponsible.  
  
George took another step forward. He was too close now, Lee could feel George's breath on his face. He felt crowded and the presence of George made him uncomfortable in a way he did _not_ want to think about.   
  
"Back off," he snarled. And then he pushed George hard.  
  
George stumbled, grabbed Lee's shoulder for support and without a hint of grace, they both landed on the floor, next to each other. Lee acted before he had time to think about it. He rolled, shifted his weight and threw himself on top of George. George gasped and Lee grabbed his friend's wrists, held them with his own hands on either side of George's head.  
  
"Don't you understand? Do you still not understand? This is real, George. This isn't a game anymore. It's not a stupid prank. The price for getting caught isn't detention. If they catch you, the best case scenario will be Azkaban."   
  
Lee didn't have the advantage of three older brothers, one twin and one younger brother. He also wasn't as broad as George or handled a beater's bat in his free time. In short, he didn't have a chance when George decided that he liked being on top a lot more and rolled them.   
  
"Don't you think I know that?" At least George was a bit out of breath. "I get it. I'm not stupid."  
  
"Then why are we fighting?" Lee asked. He actually couldn't remember what they had been talking about. Not when George was so close, his body pressing down on Lee. He absentmindedly wondered if George's grip would leave bruises on his wrists. Some twisted part of him hoped it would. Lee hated himself for noticing how very good George smelled, how his throat moved as he swallowed.   
  
"Are we?" George asked. And then George's face came closer and Lee didn't know what that look in his eyes meant. His heart was beating faster, and for a moment Lee was sure that George was going to kiss him.  
  
But he didn't.  
  
George put his head on Lee's shoulder, relaxed and let go of Lee's hands. Lee didn't know what to do with them. They might do something stupid if he wasn't careful. He patted George's back awkwardly.  
  
"I hate this, you know?" George's words were muffled, he hadn't lifted his head. But he'd gripped Lee's shoulders, and Lee was very aware of George's thighs on either side of him. "I want to _do_ something. Not just background stuff. I want to look them in the face while I kick them in the groin." George's breath was tickling Lee's neck. Lee's arms wrapped themselves around George's middle automatically, but Lee only squeezed once before letting go entirely.  
  
"Stop whining, Weasley. And fishing for compliments won't work. I won't tell you how useful you are. Would you stop drooling on my shirt now and accept that this is _my_ show?"  
  
Lee felt George shake with silent laughter. "Yeah, alright. If you can get me off," his friend said.  
  
Lee bit back about twenty five inappropriate answers and kissed George's cheek very sloppily, very messily, very wetly.  
  
"Hell, Jordan!" George rolled off of him and wiped away the spittle. "You're such a poof."  
  
George's weight was gone and Lee felt both relieved and cold. "You've no idea.”


	7. On the Run

  
Author's notes: **Pairing:** George/Lee  
 **Prompt:** 7/13: don't you dare  
 **Rating:** PG13  
 **Word Count:** 890  
 **Summary:** New Year's Eve turns out to be interesting.  
 **Author's Notes:** This is the first part of this scene, the rest will follow with the next prompts  
  


* * *

It had been a fairly good day so far, the last one of the year. Fred was in the little hut with Lee, monitoring the wards while Lee was hosting the last episode of Potterwatch in 1997. They were alone, none of the other regular correspondents like Remus Lupin or Kingsley Shacklebolt were part of the show tonight. Lee wasn't talking about murders, despair or the war. Tonight he talked about the new year, about hope, made some bad jokes and just tried to make a few people smile.  
  
It went downhill from there. Rapidly.  
  
Fred lifted his hand, made a cutting gesture in front of his throat, and Lee stopped mid-sentence. He hesitated for a second. If there was one person on this planet who would dare to joke about this, it was Fred. But one look at his friend's face told Lee that it wasn't a joke. With a flick of his wand he turned off the microphone. The show was over, someone was trying to break the wards. Lee got up silently, he even cursed without making a sound.  
  
The hut was protected with two sets of wards. Kingsley had helped them with the outer wards. They mainly prevented people from Apparating, Flooing, using Portkeys or any other form of magical transportation. These wards were supposed to give them time to disappear before someone was coming close to the hut. But obviously they had failed. Fred used a spell that gave them a rough idea of the surroundings by displaying a small model of the area including the intruders on the table. It showed that there were currently four unknown people at the front side of the hut.  
  
The wards on the hut itself would delay them, but if they had managed to break the outer wards without alerting Fred, they knew what they were doing. Not to mention that they hadn't made a sound while doing it. A silencing spell, Lee guessed, but it hardly mattered now. It _did_ matter, though, that they seemed to have forgot to cover the back side. Lee and others hadn't thought that anyone would find them in the first place, and even less thought that they would make it through the first set of wards without them noticing. Something had gone terribly wrong, but now was not the time to try and figure that out. Now was the time to try and survive.  
  
They had several strategies in case someone was trying to break the inner wards. If there was no one behind the hut, the plan was to just blast a hole through the back wall and make a run for it. Granted, it wasn't very elegant, but it played to their strengths. They were young and fit, more likely to outrun a Death Eater than to win in a direct fight, especially when it was four against two.   
  
Fred had already started to disable the wards on the back wall of the hut. They could only hope that the attackers wouldn't notice them trying to escape. Meanwhile Lee used a spell to shrink the equipment and put it back into its small bag. By now he'd done it so often that it was a matter of seconds. He glanced at the pile of clothes on the bed and the few personal items he had to leave behind.   
  
Fred looked at him and with a nod Lee signalled that he was ready, the bag in one hand, his wand in the other. His heart was beating way too fast, but he willed himself to breathe and not panic. They'd just have to make it past the outer wards, not more than 100 yards. Not far, considering both Lee and Fred were fast runners.  
  
"Run straight to the edge of the forest. Whoever is there first will side-along both of us. Don't you dare turn around or slow down before you reach the wards. No matter what. If one of us falls, the other one defends from outside the wards or we'll both be Dementor bait tomorrow." Fred talked quietly, but his tone made it clear that he meant business.   
  
Another nod and Fred blasted away the wall. Lee started to run immediately. The bag he was carrying threw him off balance and he stumbled. He didn't fall, though, was just delayed for a few precious seconds.  
  
There was shouting behind them and Lee sped up, even though something hit him in the back. He was chasing after Fred who was ahead of him and had almost reached the outer wards from where they could Apparate.  
  
Lee dared to turn his head and look back, saw someone in a black robe shouting spells and waving his wand. Lee ducked, stumbled again, cursed himself for the sheer stupidity of slowing down. But it wasn't far now. Fred had already reached the wards, turned around and was now firing spells as well. He was casting curse after curse, reaching out with his left hand towards Lee.   
  
Lee ran into him at full speed. He had no idea how Fred was able to grab him firmly around the middle with one arm, use his momentum to spin them in a circle and Apparate.  
  
It didn't matter. They'd made it out alive.


	8. Stains

  
Author's notes: When I made the first rough draft of this story arc, I planned this chapter to be a light-hearted exchange of owls. It kind of... developed.  
  


* * *

They arrived at the flat only moments after Apparating and while Lee was still trying to catch his breath, Fred whooped loudly and called George who came in from the kitchen. George looked worried when he took in their appearance, but calmed down when they both seemed unhurt, if a bit shaken.  
  
Now that anxiety and adrenalin were slowly dissipating, Lee felt weary, without energy and he was sweaty. The shirt he wore underneath his jumper was clinging to his back and he still didn't get enough air.  
  
One of the twins' armchairs was right behind him and he sat down. Fred told George what had happened, and Lee just listened. George asked lots of questions, there was something in his voice that Lee couldn't quite identify.   
  
Lee shifted in the chair. His back was wet now, but he didn't care enough to muster the energy and lift his arm to reach back. He was too tired; tired enough that his hands and feet were numb. There couldn't be enough oxygen in the room, Lee felt light-headed. He leaned his head against the back of the chair and smiled. The feeling wasn't unpleasant. He was a bit cold, though, wondered if there was a blanket somewhere.  
  
Fred and George were plotting the next steps, talking about what to do with Lee, now that he had lost his hiding place. He couldn't stay here, Lee knew that. He just hoped that they'd let him rest for a while, until the tiredness that seemed to have reached every cell of his body was gone. And maybe take a shower to get rid of the stickiness.  
  
Lee worried as his back seemed to get wetter, and he didn't know if the thick jumper he wore was already soaked through. He didn't want to leave any stains on the armchair. A quiet voice in the very back of his mind tried to tell him that the jumper or the chair wasn't the biggest problem, and that he should _do_ something, preferably _now_. He couldn't remember, though, _what_ he was supposed to do, as his concentration and focus seemed to slip away from him whenever he tried to hold onto them.  
  
He closed his eyes and the darkness was comforting. He still couldn't feel his hands or feet, come to think of it, he couldn't feel a lot right now, but he still smiled. His friends were talking, and there was no pain. For a fleeting moment Lee was startled, as he didn't know why he had expected pain in the first place. The moment was over in a second, though.  
  
"Come on, Lee, no falling asleep, this is a celebration. You can sleep next year."  
  
There was a pause and Lee would have opened his eyes if it hadn't been far too much effort and if he hadn't known that the light would be bright enough to hurt.  
  
"Lee?" asked the voice again. It sounded like George, but Lee wasn't sure. And how odd was that?  
  
"Lee?" Yeah, it was George, and he sounded worried. Lee smiled some more and hoped they would leave him. He just wanted to sleep. They could celebrate tomorrow.  
  
"What's up with him? He looks like shit."  
  
"Dunno." Lee heard rustling and then someone was touching him, squeezing his shoulder. "You still here? Say something."  
  
A hand was gently cradling his cheek and Lee sighed at the warmth against his cold skin.  
  
"Fuck it!" George's voice was too loud now and Lee tried to open his eyes, but his lids only fluttered before they fell shut again. The warmth was gone and for a moment he thought he was going to be sick as his head fell to the side. But the darkness was there and it surrounded Lee like the blanket he'd been waiting for. The words were reaching him from far away, and he hardly even registered that someone was tugging at him, trying to shift his body.   
  
"Fred! He's bleeding." There was more tugging, more shifting and a second set of hands. "There's fucking blood. Lots of it." The words echoed in Lee's head, even though he didn't grasp their meaning. It was the last thing he heard before he finally fell asleep.


End file.
